


(Almost) Had It All

by UAgirl



Category: Passions
Genre: AU, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Romance, Sexual Situations, under-age drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAgirl/pseuds/UAgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenarios where Kay almost had it all, but didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Almost) Had It All

**Author's Note:**

> Title: (Almost) Had It All  
> Rating: PG-ish, not quite PG-13  
> Warnings: under-age drinking, character death  
> Characters/Pairings: mentions of Charity, hints of Charity/Miguel, Kay/Miguel, some Reese/Jessica, mentions of Sam, Grace, Luis  
> Summary: prompt: 2 a.m. She dreams Charity never comes to Harmony, Charity doesn’t exist, and Miguel finally wakes up, sees what’s staring him in the face, his best friend, head over heels, in love with him.

She dreams Charity never comes to Harmony, Charity doesn’t exist, and Miguel finally wakes up, sees what’s staring him in the face, his best friend, head over heels, in love with him. 

 

~*~

 

They go to Senior Prom together.

Reese takes Jessica, and they double (Mom takes probably hundreds of pictures, and Dad gives the boys the talk). 

Kay spends half the night mercilessly teasing her kid sister, the other stealing (half-smile) glances at Miguel in his tux, only to find him staring right back at her with soulful dark eyes that glitter and shine in the low lights.

They sneak away during the coronation of Prom King and Queen, into the shadows of the still young night, and Kay’s hair whips around her face, her arms tight around Miguel’s waist, as his motorcycle zips around the curls and curves of Coast Road, the sea salt air stinging their skin. 

She’s still breathless from their dash up the Lighthouse’s winding stairs (so many) when Miguel kisses her, and the rest of her hair slides like a waterfall through his fingers as he frees it from its (hidden) pins. His heart beats strong beneath her trembling fingertips, his skin warm and familiar (yet not) and soft as she slides her hands beneath his snow white shirt. His bow tie tickles against her breastbone as she raises herself to the tips of her toes and kisses him more deeply, sighing into the gentleness of his mouth. She pulls back to stare at him when the light sweeps back around, reads echoes of her own uncertainty in his eyes. She finds his hand then, tangles their fingers together, and smiles (whispers, I love you). 

They watch the waves break against the shore—even spy a few ships (tiny, intermittent shimmers reflected against the blackness of the night), and hold each other close as the hour advances and her curfew grows closer. 

Miguel delivers her safely to her doorstep (just a few minutes before the headlights of Reese’s dad’s old clunker appear at the end of the street) with a gentleman’s kiss to her cheek and a promise in his parting smile. 

Jessica giggles her own goodnight to Reese as the rumbling purr of Miguel’s bike recedes into the distance, and Kay’s eyes widen when she smells the alcohol (the punch, it was spiked, I swear, is Reese’s only defense) on her kid sister’s breath and hears her dad’s restless movements inside the house (sometimes, having a law enforcement officer as your father really, really sucked). She pushes Reese toward his car, grabs Jessica by the hand, and tugs her inside and up the stairs before their father even has time to pretend he was doing anything else but waiting up for them. 

In their shared bedroom, it takes Kay only a few moments to give up the struggle of helping Jessica out of her dress and into her pajamas (Jessica is asleep before her head even hits her pillow anyway). She settles for tucking the covers snugly around Jessica’s shoulders and changing into her own pajamas. She wraps her arms around her pillow and lets herself be lulled to sleep by the slow, comforting beat of her own heart and the (tomorrow, forever) promise in Miguel’s smile. 

Kay dreams sweet dreams, dreams full of (im)possibility. 

Of wedding cakes and thrown bouquets—it’s your turn, Jess; of little girls with dark curls and impish smiles—Maria, Maria, Maria; of little boys with solemn, wise brown eyes—did you know I first fell in love with your daddy on a ball field; of tomorrow’s and next week’s and next year’s—I want it to be like this between us always, never forget, never, never, never…

She wakes to the sound of her sister’s soft sobs, the shadow of her mother moving toward her. With a groan, she rolls onto her back, fumbles for the chain of her lamp, and blinks against the harshness of the light (and Jessica’s raccoon eyes). Her mother’s eyes are soft and sympathetic with tears, and Kay sits up, flings her covers back, shakes her head before the words have a chance to start spilling out of her mother’s mouth. It’s all a jumble anyway, one big, meaningless tangle of words that assault her ears (never made it home last night, Honey…Luis got the call…2 a.m…some kids…been drinking…never saw him…no pain…Eve says he probably died instantly) as she moves toward the bedroom window, peeks out at the midnight sky growing gray around the edges, preparing to welcome the hesitant dawn. She feels her mother’s hand rest low against the small of her back, and the first tear spills down her cheek when something catches her eye, and in that moment, she knows, just knows all she has left is yesterday and the unfulfilled promise of that smile. 

Miguel’s crumpled bow tie rests next to her wilting corsage on her desk, and Kay can feel her (breaking) heart echo with his absence. 

I love you too.


End file.
